


In Another World

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 5x08, Disordered Eating, Episode Related, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Invasion!, Missing Scene Fic, PTSD flashbacks, Romance, Stress, episode reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: “I don’t believe you,” Felicity shot back. “I don’t believe you, Oliver, I can sense your bull from a hundred miles away.” Episode reaction/missing scene fic for 5x08 "Invasion!"





	

“You need to eat something,” Felicity implored, shaking the bag of potato chips she held in the hope that he’d get the hint. “It’s been two days.”

“I’m not hungry,” Oliver said, pushing back the chair from the conference table and stretching as he went, already in the process of removing his shirt for a few rounds on the Salmon Ladder. 

It had been two days since they’d touched back down in Star City after defeating the alien invasion. Three days since he’d been trapped in the aliens’ hallucination where he saw his dead parents alive again. 

Oliver pulled off his shirt and discarded it, reaching for the metal bar to start his torturous climb, but Felicity was relentless. She followed him around the room, still shaking the bag of chips, popping one into her mouth and crunching loudly as she did so.

“Oliver, you have to eat,” she said, around a mouthful of chips. “You need your energy levels for being the Mayor _and_  fighting crime.”

“ _Felicity_ ,” Oliver said forcefully, swinging himself up onto the first bar of the Ladder. “I said I was fine.”

“I don’t believe you,” Felicity shot back. “I don’t believe you, Oliver, I can sense your _bull_ from a hundred miles away.” 

“I am fine,” he said, an edge of annoyance creeping into his voice. The metal-on-metal _clang_  of the Salmon Ladder punctuated his words. “I’m over it.”

_Liar._

The voice in his head was hissing, insidious, bringing with it memories he had wanted to push down. Hugging his mother, smelling her perfume and seeing the brilliant diamonds she wore glisten in the lamplight of the dinner in his honour. The laughter lines around his father’s eyes when he smiled. 

The blood spreading across the side of his father’s head where he shot himself, the heavy drape of his body as Oliver had carried him across the sand to a makeshift grave. 

“Uh-huh,” Felicity said, tapping her heel sharply on the floor. She ate another chip. “Talk to me, Oliver.” 

“I don’t _want_  to talk!” The words burst out of him like water out a dam; anger rose and burned like fire, making him see red. 

He didn’t see Felicity jump behind him, or her skin turn pale. 

He dropped from the Salmon Ladder, his palms sweaty and aching. His heart was beating too fast, too fast, and his knees felt like Jell-O. Emotions swarmed over him like flies, pulling him under; sadness, guilt, shame, anger, fear, hurt, grief. 

He didn’t realize he was on the cold floor of the bunker until he felt Felicity’s hands on his bare shoulders, and her voice calling his name, over and over. _Oliver. Oliver. Oliver._

 _“_ Felicity,” he whispered. His throat felt like it was made of glass. 

Oliver remembered the Dreamworld. Remembered seeing her, Felicity, in the bunker just like this one, in a black dress that showed off her figure and her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. In that world, she’d still been Overwatch, but she hadn’t been his.

She wasn’t his in this world, either, but it was better than _that_  world. 

He heard her heels clacking as she shuffled off, then again as she returned. Something cold was pressed to his forehead, one of her hands cradling the back of his head. 

“Oliver,” Felicity said again. “Hey, look at me.”

Trying to get his bearings, Oliver blinked rapidly, and looked. Felicity, in a crimson dress, crouched in front of him, holding a cold compress to his face. Her brow was furrowed in anxiety and her eyes were earnest behind her glasses, searching for…whatever it was. Something in _him_ that was obviously bothering her.

“I know that whatever happened when you were held by the aliens upset you, but I also know it’s your business,” she bit her lip, smearing the colour. “So if you want to talk…I’m here. I just want you be okay.”

 _God_ , she was so close, he wanted to pull her in and hold her, breathe in her scent and feel her warm body pressed against him, calming him down, keeping him sane. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s okay,” Felicity said, removing the cold compress. Water trickled down his face, bringing him back to the present. “But _please_  will you eat something? I have some chips left. Or - maybe we can get take-out.” 

“Chips sound good,” Oliver managed a smile. Maybe a little food would help. 

Felicity stood up, patting his shoulder. She handed him his discarded shirt and grabbed up the bag of chips, then crouched down on the floor once more and put the bag between them. 

“After you,” she indicated. 

Oliver gratefully took a chip, chewing thoughtfully. He watched as Felicity helped herself, getting crumbs stuck to her lipstick, her ponytail swinging each time she turned to get more from the bag. 

She was beautiful, and so special. 

He was so grateful to have her in this world. 

Anything else was beyond thinking about. 


End file.
